


It Only Takes a Name

by LaCacciatrice



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen, all the characters other than boba and vader are actually mentioned, always in motion is the future, dark side!luke (mentioned), from sw comics, or Vader witnessing one of the possible outcomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-22 09:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22447816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaCacciatrice/pseuds/LaCacciatrice
Summary: That one second between Boba Fett telling Vader the identify of the pilot who destroyed the Death Star and Vader shattering the starship viewport.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	It Only Takes a Name

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first, second or third language. I self-studied it for a couple of years and my language skills are nowhere near perfect. And this is my first SW fic despite being in this fandom for years. This is just a warm-up one shot.

Stars were shining like millions of glow-worms from Naboo in the cold dark space lying in front of him. It tugged at his heart, scratched a cold, dead part of his heart, willing it to come alive again. Like always, he killed this will, this hope with hatred for himself, with images of a beautiful woman with dark hair grasping her delicate, pale neck with fear in her chocolate eyes. 

He felt him approaching before he heard his footsteps. 

Vader’s opinions of bounty hunters weren’t high, they were low-life, greedy scums of this galaxy. However, his opinions of bounty hunters or Hutts didn’t matter when it comes to the will of his Master. With enough credit, they were waiting at the doorstep of the Empire, at Vader’s feet for his command. And some bounty hunters proved their worth as an ally time to time. 

One of them was definitely Boba Fett. One thing Vader appreciated about the masked man was his equanimity. Boba Fett always stood tall and proud in front of Vader, not faltering, sweating or covering like most living beings in the galaxy would. He wasn’t afraid of Darth Vader. 

He was either a fool or a very brave man. 

It must be a combination of both because no one would like to walk calmly toward Darth Vader, carrying the news of a failed mission like Boba Fett would. Yet, he came to Vader himself, still not showing any fear. 

“I lost him.” He stated simply, a fact Vader sensed even before the Mandalorian opened his mouth. 

“That’s most disappointing.” His respirator didn’t allow him to slip through many emotions to his voice, still, despite the calmness of his appearance he was disappointed. A lot. 

“He got lucky.” Still, unlike many of his officers and troopers, Fett wasn’t making it sound like an excuse, he was simply stating a fact. Because in his mind, the boy’s escape was nothing more than luck. He got lucky. That was it. 

“Did you bring me anything worth of value, bounty hunter?” Fett walked closer to the Dark Lord, his footsteps heavy on the smooth surface of the Star Destroyer. He wasn’t tip-toeing around the Sith. It was almost... admirable. 

“Not much.” Fett shrugged. “Just his name.” 

A name. 

Where Vader came from, names didn’t worth much. Skywalker was the name of a slave that didn’t have control over his fate. Anakin died long ago, melted in the hot burning lava of Mustafar. Where Vader was born. 

What was a name? What did it mean? What did it worth? 

There was only one name that carried some amount of meaning, a name that he could no longer mutter. 

Fett waited one moment more for a reply from the Dark Lord when he received none, he simply gave him all he could find during his journey. 

A name. 

“Skywalker.” 

A name meant a lot. A name could change the course of the galaxy. A name could destroy the years of constitution of the hierarchy between a Master and an Apprentice. 

“Well, we are done here, then.” Fett said as he retreated when he didn’t get any reply from the Sith again. Vader didn’t move, not when Fett told him the name of the pilot who destroyed his Master’s precious Death Star. Not when Fett left the room. 

Force was whirling around him like a storm, hitting his mind, his aura like nothing he ever felt before. 

He saw her, her beautiful brown eyes looking up at him with a happiness and joy that she could barely contain. Her shaky, delicate fingers wrapped around the tunics of his as she leaned forward, never breaking the eye contact. 

“Something wonderful has happened. I’m... Ani, I am pregnant.” 

_ No,  _ his mind screamed,  _ not now. Not here.  _

But his younger self didn’t listen to him, his hands wrapped around his wife’s shoulders and grinned like the hopeful idiot he was. 

“That’s... that’s wonderful.” 

His mind joined the Force and pulled him away from the happiest memory of his old life, throwing him in a cold, darkroom. Only filled with pain and despair. 

“Where’s Padmé?” Asked the newly born Vader. “Is she safe? Is she alright?” 

His Master appeared in the Darkness, his deformed face hidden by the hood of his cloak. 

“I am afraid,” he said without an ounce of sadness in his hoarse voice, “she died. It seems in your anger you killed her.” 

It was all gone. Everything he has ever done, every crime he committed, every sin was for nothing. The one, the most precious thing in the galaxy died in his hands, by his own hands. 

“Skywalker.” The name sounded alien after all those years, like a hiss between his tightly closed teeth. 

A name could mean so much. A name could awaken a cold, dead heart, fuel it with hate, rage and a desire for revenge. 

It’s all it takes sometimes. 

A name. 

Force pulled his mind again, he found himself, on his knees in the Darkest place he could ever imagine. Was it his own heart? His own mind? 

No, it wasn’t a memory. 

It was a vision. Something that he didn’t experience for a very long time. 

He heard the brush of soft fabric against the floor before he saw his Master, stepping away from the Darkest clouds surrounding Vader, standing in front of him. But he wasn’t alone. A slightly smaller figure, covered by the dark cloak was standing with him. In front of him. Palpatine’s hands were on the figure’s shoulders, almost caressing him like a precious gift. He felt Palpatine’s dark chuckle more than hearing it. 

“Are you surprised?” His blood boiled in his veins when he heard the mocking voice of his Master. He felt like nothing. Just a slave boy from Tatooine. No one. His worth was cut short with his injuries, damaged by his shattered soul. He felt it often, when his Master looked at him under the hood of his cloak that usually covered his deformed, wrinkled face. Those sickly yellow eyes that judged him, criticized him. 

His boney, deformed fingers appeared under the sleeve of his cloak and one by one, wrapped around the pale, delicate neck of the smaller shadow. Other than his pale neck, nothing was visible under the cloak that was as dark as the shadows surrounding him. 

“Meet everything you could never be.” Palpatine hissed between his teeth with a wicked smile plastered on his face. His sickeningly yellow eyes were looking into Vader’s soul, almost provoking him to react. He couldn’t move from where he was sitting in the Darkness, he couldn’t move when the smaller figure moved slightly, drawing an object from his belt. Vader knew what was coming before he could even react. With a hiss, the red glow lightened the darkness around them and Palpatine’s smile didn’t disappear even when the saber impaled him through his chest. He turned into dust and the wind dragged him away as the other figure stepped forward, reaching up to push back his hood. 

Vader’s mind couldn’t catch up with him for a second. It was all wrong. This wasn’t how it happened. He wasn’t this young, this small when Palpatine showed him the lies of the Jedi, showing him their true nature and made false promises of saving his one true love. 

It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t looking into a memory. This wasn’t him. This dark blond hair, blue streaks appearing in the yellow eyes weren’t his. 

It was his son. 

Rage filled his heart, strengthening the Dark Side of the Force as it whirled around him like a storm. Palpatine took his child, corrupted him and turned him into a slave. 

But Luke was the son of a freed slave. And by killing his master, he also freed himself. 

His father’s chains wouldn’t be his own.

His joy for his son’s fate lasted for a moment when Luke looked down at him with a passiveness that didn’t suit the hopeful young man he met before. He took another step forward. Vader finally managed to lift his hand and he tried to reach forward but Luke only smirked at him. He was far away, unreachable for him. Above him. 

“I am here to take what’s mine. I am more powerful than Palpatine could ever hope to be. Because I am nothing like you. You are weak. You are born to be a slave. But me,” he pointed at himself, “I am born to rise above you all. You thought you could control me like a pawn, _ father? _ To overthrow your master and to set you free?” He chuckled darkly. “Apparently, jokes are on you, from now on, I have no master. No father. Now, I am THE MASTER! THE EMPEROR!” 

He raised his red blade above his head with a battle cry and lowered it on Vader with an indisputable rage and certainty. The moment blade touched the surface of his mask, it and Luke disappeared into dust and joined Palpatine, leaving Vader alone in the Darkness again. 

He didn’t realize he was still standing in front of the viewport until he heard the crackling sound coming from it. His hand tightened into a fist with barely contained rage. So that was it. 

“I have a son.” He muttered to himself. 

And Palpatine was going to find out soon. He was going to know that there is another Skywalker with a huge potential waiting to be corrupted like his father. He would find him, he would play with him, torture and corrupt until nothing left of him other than rage, self-hatred and a darkness that would sink into his soul, his bones like a second flesh. 

Palpatine would take his son, turn him into a slave, slave of the Darkness, of himself. He would use the boy to destroy his father. 

Another crackle sound came from the viewport. 

No. Obi-wan tried the same thing. He took the boy from him. He stole his son, probably filled his mind with Jedi nonsense, with hatred against Vader. This boy was Obi- wan's last hope, one that Vader was going to enjoy corrupting, bending to his will and completely conquer. The boy belonged to him. His soul, his mind, his powers. They all belonged to Vader. 

His Master was going to suffer the same fate as Obi-wan. 

“He will be mine.” He said as his eyes focused on the millions of stars and ships laying in front of him like glow-worms of Naboo. This time hatred came from a different source. It wasn’t for  himself; it was for his so-called Master. Who lied to him, who used  him.

He looked at the stars. 

The ships. 

The galaxy. 

“It will all be mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I know Boba Fett isn't a Mandalorian now BUT he will always be a Mandalorian to me let me live
> 
> Thanks for reading I am lanthimo on tumblr


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